


Lessons Learned Early Are Lessons Well Remembered

by Rambutans



Series: Prophecies of Youth [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambutans/pseuds/Rambutans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the council turns down Anakin's proposal to free his mother and the slaves on Tatooine, Anakin makes up his mind to go against their orders and return anyway.  Obi-Wan plans to use the visit as a teaching opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons Learned Early Are Lessons Well Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> THINGS TO NOTE:
> 
> 1\. In this fic Anakin is 15 years old. Obi-Wan is 23.
> 
> 2\. This is the first part of a moderately epic series in the works for which I have virtually everything planned and very little written ("very little" being literally like 16k words so to be honest I shudder to think how long this series could be when finished considering the longest thing I've ever written was roughly 30k words).
> 
> 3\. At the end of the day this is going to be a 100% purely self indulgent fix-it fic.
> 
> 4\. At the end of the day, this is also going to be a 100% Anakin/Obi-Wan fic, although other pairings will be featured.
> 
> 5\. Various future installments of this series will focus on events depicted in both the movies and The Clone Wars series. For the most part I'm going to try to keep any scenes from the movies/show out of my fic because I honestly hate reading just like completely re-hashed scenes, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. A lot of scenes will seem very similar though but the differences will be important to future installments, I promise.
> 
> 6\. As an addendum to note 4, I will more or less be working exclusively within the current canon. EU/Legends characters probably won't play a huge role (if any) in this series. There are going to be possibly a few exceptions, but generally speaking, if they weren't in the movies or The Clone Wars series, they won't be in this fic.

“Anakin, I’m warning you.  Do not do this,” Obi-Wan said, wearily following his Padawan down one of the Temple’s curving, marble hallways.  Anakin was meters ahead of him, storming and furious and barely containing it.  At this rate, every Jedi in the entire temple could probably sense his rage.

“Qui-Gon went against the Council’s wishes plenty of times.”  To his credit, Anakin’s voice did not betray his emotions, but then it rarely had to when you could so often see them as plain as day on his face.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, jogging to catch up to Anakin’s quick pace as they rounded a corner.  “And Qui-Gon was a Knighted Jedi well in tune with the force and wise enough to know when the council’s own fears were clouding their judgment.  You, my young Padawan, are none of those things.”  He received a harsh look for this statement and sensed the sting of betrayal percolating off of Anakin like noxious gas from a vented chamber.  “ _Anakin_ ,” he said, forcefully grabbing hold of Anakin’s elbow and swinging him around one of the Temple’s immense columns, effectively hiding them from the view of anyone lingering about the hallway.  “You are projecting.  You _must_ calm down.”

Anakin’s eyes flickered from side to side like a cornered animal until Obi-Wan squeezed his elbow one last time and he closed them, breathing in slowly.  Already Anakin was as tall as Obi-Wan himself, and it had barely been five years since he’d begun his training, something which Obi-Wan quietly tried not to resent.  Within the next year he would surely outgrow his master by several inches, but at least for now they were eye to eye, if only in the physical realm.

When Anakin had gotten ahold of himself, Obi-Wan said, “Your reaction to the Council’s refusal is exactly the _why_ they refused.  You must understand this.”

For a short moment, Anakin shifted his footing, and Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised to find that he must actually be taking the time to choose his words before spitting them out of his mouth.  Eventually he spoke. “I do, Master.  Sort of.  But the Jedi are supposed to be guardians of peace.  To defend and protect, not cower and debate!”

Obi-Wan sighed.  It wasn’t exactly what he had been hoping to hear, but at least he could work with it.  “We are on the cusp of a war, Anakin.  If it is to be avoided, we cannot lose focus by diverting our attention to matters which are capable of waiting.  Not to mention, you’re only one man.  The kind of operation you’re proposing would require the efforts of multiple Jedi, well trained, with weeks of prior planning and strategy.  It’s not something a single Jedi can accomplish on their own, much less a Padawan.”

Anakin’s expression cooled, but Obi-Wan could feel the crest of boiling rage swell within him.  “I didn’t know the Jedi considered the enslavement of living, sentient beings to be an issue that can wait.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan all but pleaded.  “In the face of a potential _galactic war_ , priorities _must_ be set into place, no matter how gruesome they are to our sensibilities.”

Slowly, the anger began to melt from Anakin, and Obi-Wan almost thought he had broken through that unbelievably thick skull (possibly for the first time since his training began), but then Anakin said, “I’m sorry, Master.  I cannot sit here and wait for the Council to assign us on some inconsequential mission while people on my planet, my friends, my _mother_ , are enslaved and suffering.  I _will_ go to Tatooine and free them.  Alone, if I have to.”

He pulled out of Obi-Wan’s grip and stared, like he was just waiting for Obi-Wan to disown him right then and there, to kick him out of the order himself.  Obi-Wan remained silent for the duration of the exchange and then watched Anakin turn around and leave, continuing on his way back to their quarters at a much slower pace.  With one final sigh, Obi-Wan stepped out from behind the pillar and followed him.

========

In the early morning, chilled winds swept between the glistening skyscrapers of Coruscant’s upper city and gently rocked the spaceport’s landing platforms even despite their stabilizer engines.  This was a phenomenon that Obi-Wan frankly hated.  Nothing in the galaxy was worse than walking out onto a platform suspended thousands of meters in the air as it swayed back and forth like some lost piece of driftwood in an empty ocean.  Honestly, he’d almost rather be in the cockpit of a star cruiser with Anakin at the helm than on one of Coruscant’s landing platforms at oh-six-hundred in the morning when the planet was at its windiest.

Unfortunately, current circumstances had no intention of taking into account Obi-Wan’s personal comfort, and so here he was, going over flight plans and coordinates with the droid attendant standing next to the hangar door of his transport and waiting, as usual, for his perpetually tardy Padawan to show up.

“There is no record of a Jedi Council ordered flight to Alderaan in our registry,” The droid said.  “Due to heightened security protocols, all flights, locations, and assignments must be recorded.  What is your business on Alderaan?”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, scanning the platform entrance briefly for any sign of Anakin before turning back to the droid.  “I am taking my Padawan to Alderaan for training.  It’s a personal assignment, not issued by the Council.”

The droid’s CPU hissed quietly, barely audible over the whistle of wind whipping past the platform.  “Assignment recorded. You have been cleared for takeoff.  Have a nice day, Master Kenobi.”  After this, the droid waddled past him, off of the platform and back into the spaceport proper, just in time for Anakin’s speeder (which looked like a pile of trash to Obi-Wan’s eyes, but which he also knew had been modified beyond logical reason by Anakin himself) to make its landing on the other side of the platform.

He leapt out of it recklessly, before the extension bridge had even reached his driver door, and began storming towards Obi-Wan leaving poor Artoo to propel himself out of the speeder alone.

“Whatever this is about, Master, you can’t stop me.  I’m going to save my Mother and the rest of the slaves.”

Obi-Wan greeted him with a smile and said, “You’re so pleasantly defensive in the mornings Anakin.  It’s a shame you don’t wake up this early more often.”  His words were met with a scowl and Obi-Wan gestured to the transport behind him.  “I’ve no intention of stopping you, but I’m also not going to simply let you ship yourself off on a suicide mission.  That being the case, I’ve secured us relatively inconspicuous passage, if you’re ready to go.”

As realization slowly dawned on Anakin’s face his expression changed from irritation to a washed out reflection of the awe Obi-Wan so fondly remembered seeing during Anakin’s more innocent youth.

“You’re coming with me?”

“I’m certainly not letting you go alone.”

Anakin tamped down his joy quickly and quietly said, “Thank you, Master.  I do appreciate it.”

If Anakin were half as good at concealing his anger as he was his delight, Obi-Wan suspected he might be able to fool even Master Yoda.  He kept this thought to himself, however and followed Anakin into the ship, Artoo trailing behind.

Anakin made his way immediately to the cockpit and Obi-Wan closed the bay door in case Anakin decided to take off without warning while it was still open, which would not have been an unprecedented decision on his part. It wasn’t until several minutes later, when Obi-Wan returned to the main cabin area, that Anakin asked, “Why is the nav computer set to Alderaan, Master?”

“Because, my young Padawan,” Obi-Wan rested a hand on the back of Anakin’s chair.  “With all this tension rising in the senate, security has been increased.  I had to give an official destination for the spaceports registry.  I’m sure Artoo won’t have trouble wiping the nav computers records after our detour to Tatooine.”

Somewhere in the cabin of the transport Artoo beeped in acquiescence and Obi-Wan received a skeptical look from Anakin who reached across the ship’s controls to the nav computer and said, “Great.  I’ll re-set the coordinates myself.”

“I’m not trying to trick you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said before turning away, arms crossed.  “Honestly…”  There were more important things to attend to than his Padawan’s distrust, like making sure the port kept this ship stalked with rations before Anakin hastily flew them into space without any food.

=======

From the moment they docked in the Mos Espa space port on Tatooine, Anakin was jittery.  It was something that Obi-Wan hated because Anakin’s jitters made _Obi-Wan_ jittery.  Before Qui-Gon had died, Obi-Wan never really had to contend with negative emotional feedback from individuals strong in the force.  Training Anakin however, had made contend with it as Anakin contained an endless renewable resource of nerves.  He was _constantly_ on edge about some thing or another, and though it took several years of practice, Obi-Wan had learned to tune it out, but on such occasions when it became especially noticeable, Obi-Wan had to will himself not to be drawn in by Anakin’s emotional pull.

On this occasion, it _was_ especially noticeable, and it remained so until they reached the neighborhood in which Anakin claimed to have grown up, at which point it became nearly unbearable.

“Something’s wrong,” Anakin said and broke into a sprint toward the adobe complex of apartments.  “She’s not here.  Something’s wrong.”

“Perhaps she’s simply out, Anakin.” Obi-Wan followed him to one of the apartment doors and it struck him, perhaps for the first time, that he had never come to Mos Espa when they landed on Tatooine oh-so long ago.  He’d never seen Anakin’s childhood home, never met his mother. He wasn’t sure _why_ it struck him so, but he couldn’t shake the odd notion that he _should_ have been here somehow.

“No,” Anakin said, pulling the lock panel off the side of the wall and yanking out a pair of wires.  The door slid open immediately, revealing a small, modest living space, dim and completely void of furnishings.  “No, no, no,” Anakin stormed in and Obi-Wan followed slowly, arms crossed in his sleeves, taking in the house’s cramped layout.

It was several minutes before Anakin re-appeared, looking years older and like he might be sick.  “She’s not here, Master. _Nothing’s_ here.  Something’s happened to her.  I knew it,” he flung himself back against the wall and with a quiet cry of frustration said, “I knew something was wrong!”  Across the room, one of the containment field panels on the wall popped loudly and began to smoke.  The field in the window flickered off and a small plume of dust ghosted into the room.

“Anakin, calm down,” Obi-Wan said, as kindly as he could.  “Clear your mind.  I sense no lingering ill will here.  Whatever was the cause of your mother’s leaving this place, I do not believe it brought her harm.”

After staring at the ceiling for some time, Anakin closed his eyes and said, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Obi-Wan moved to put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder.   He was growing so fast that his wrist bones could already be seen peeking out the bottom of his sleeves.  He’d soon need new robes, and Obi-Wan dreaded the thought of what horrible custom adaptation Anakin would ask for this time.  _Last_ time his padawan had put in a request that they be made purple.  Some ill-conceived joke to poke fun at Master Windu’s uniquely colored lightsaber, no doubt.  Thankfully that request had been denied, much to Obi-Wan’s relief and Anakin’s chagrin.

“It’s alright Anakin.  You must learn not to let your attachments influence your actions.  There must be some other way of contacting your mother.  Do you have family in the city?”

Anakin narrowed his eyes and said, “Not family.  But there is someone we could ask.”  He pushed away from the wall and Obi-Wan’s hand fell from his shoulder as Anakin brushed past him.  “He’s got a shop close by.”

======

This non-familial “him” that Anakin referred to turned out to be a Toydarian by the name of Watto, apparently Anakin’s former owner, and the same one who lost all of his bettings on the pod race that won Anakin his freedom. 

Watto’s poverty was apparent in the shop he ran; little more than a kiosk with various junk goods and a few barely functioning droids.  His interaction with Anakin was nothing short of amusing, if not also somewhat pathetic.  The juxtaposition between their individual statuses could have easily gone to Anakin’s head, and Obi-Wan was impressed that it didn’t.  In an odd sort of way, this reunion seemed to bring out a side of Anakin that had been lost during his transition into adolescence.  A kinder, softer side, not as clouded by the promise of power and his own inflated ideas regarding the magnitude of his abilities.  It presented itself in the way Anakin tinkered with one of Watto’s broken down droids while the Toydarian rifled through his files, and in his tone which was a great deal softer than usual.  Obi-Wan tried not to think about the fact that Anakin’s change in demeanor could just as easily be attributed to the bone deep scars of slavery left over in the form of old habits while in the presence of his former owner.

Eventually, Watto found the address of Shmi Skywalker’s new owner, a moisture farmer named Cliegg Lars who lived exactly in the middle of nowhere, which was impressive considering everywhere on Tatooine was the middle of nowhere.  They left shortly after, despite Watto’s pleas that they help him settle some huge debt he was owed.

When they were safely back on the ship and Anakin had finished entering the coordinates for the Lars’ farm, Obi-Wan asked, “How exactly do you plan on freeing your mother from this moisture famer?”

Anakin looked at him over the back of his pilot’s chair, the enormous hangar walls seeming to lower themselves outside of the ship’s front window as they rose above Mos Espa’s spaceport.  “I’ll speak with him.  Very persuasively.”

Obi-Wan hummed. “I suppose that means you’re planning to do something rash.  I’ll make sure to grab a medical kit.”

========

The Lars’ moister farm was in fact, in the middle of nowhere.  They flew for hours over empty desert and Tuscan encampments before they reached the farm, a good half day’s ride from any civilized settlement, and when they did finally land, Anakin was practically vibrating.  Force energy buzzed around him like a nest of hornets and while Obi-Wan tried not to feed off of it or let it put him on edge, the knowledge that if Anakin _did_ do something overtly rash, it would be Obi-Wan who’d have to stop him or deal with the consequences weighed heavily on him.

Some days he wasn’t sure anything he tried to teach Anakin actually got through that enormously thick skull.  From the moment they’d met, Obi-Wan sensed Anakin’s natural instinct to rebel against authority.  He understood where that instinct came from, that Anakin’s intrinsic need to make his own choices and interpret any kind suggestion as an order was a direct result of his enslavement as a child, and Obi-Wan _did_ try to work with that (often times in the form of letting his Padawan learn from his own stupid mistakes), but there had to be a line somewhere between what experiences Obi-Wan would allow Anakin to learn from, and what experiences Obi-Wan knew could potentially harm or kill him.  Most times this line was fairly clear, but other times it wasn’t, and right now Obi-Wan could only hope that he wasn’t, himself, making a stupid mistake in allowing Anakin to follow through with this.

Qui-Gon, he thought, would tell him to trust in the force, and so Obi-Wan did as he followed a fuming Anakin off of the ship and onto the clumped sand flat of the Lars’ family moisture farm.

Apparently, a Republic transport ship landing outside of your farm wasn’t a typical occurrence on Tatooine because by the time Obi-Wan and Anakin reached the farm house’s small, hut entrance, they had already acquired something of a landing party including a protocol droid, an older man squinting at them beneath the shade of his palm, and, presumably, this same man’s son.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker.  I’m here to free my mother, Shmi Skywalker.” Anakin spoke before Obi-Wan even had a chance to open his mouth. “I’m going to advise that you don’t try to stop me.”

To the surprise of everyone – although no one more than Anakin – the older man laughed.  Loudly.  “I’m afraid you’re too late, son.  I already freed her.”  He extended his hand to Anakin who eyed it like it might turn into a Sith saber at any moment.  “Cliegg Lars.  Your mother’s my wife.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat to keep from smiling and Anakin reached for Cliegg’s hand looking shell shocked.

“This is my son, Owen,” He said, clapping the younger man’s shoulder, before motioning for them to follow him. “Come inside, I’m sure you’ve got questions.”

“I had a feeling you’d show up eventually,” Owen said.  He had a soft smile and looked to be nearly the same age as Anakin.  “Your mother talks about you often.”

“Where is she?” Anakin asked, as they descended a set of stairs leading to the cooler, underground living quarters.

“Out picking mushrooms off the vaporators.  Should be back any time now.”  Lars guided them across an open court yard in the center of the house and into a smaller hearth room where he motioned for them to take a seat on one of the off white, slightly dusty couches.  “Who’s your friend?”

“This is my – um, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin said as he sat.

Obi-Wan looked pointedly at him and raised an eyebrow, receiving an expression of pure irritation from Anakin in return.

“Nice to meet you,” Cliegg said.

Obi-Wan smiled. “You as well.”

“How long have you been married to my mother?” Anakin asked, already falling back into his hostile tone, now that the shock had worn off.  It slightly concerned Obi-Wan that Anakin’s judgment was so clouded by his distrust that he couldn’t sense the kind intentions of their hosts.  That particular lecture could wait for later time, however.

“Oh, well let’s see,” Cliegg ran a hand through the short hair of his beard.  “It’ll be nearly two years next season.”

“And did you free her before or after you decided to marry her?”

Cliegg laughed, “I knew from the moment I met your mother that I’d free her, and I did.  Bought her off of that scum Watto in Mos Espa and freed her the same day – offered her a job on the farm to help her get her feet.  But it wasn’t till I learned what a kind hearted, honest woman she was that I knew I’d marry her too.  She’s been the most loyal wife a man could ask for, and I love her dearly.  Does that put your mind at ease, Son?”

Anakin looked almost embarrassed that Cliegg picked up on his suspicion, but he bowed his head and said, “It does. But I-,” he cut himself off and Obi-Wan could sense a shift in the force around him.  Seconds later a voice called out from the courtyard for Cliegg and asked what a Republic transport ship was doing outside their homestead.

Cliegg called back, “You’ve got a couple visitors, Shmi.  I think one of them is pretty eager to see you again.”

“Oh?”  There were footsteps outside the room and then a woman’s head poked around the corner of the doorway.  “Oh…,” she whispered, walking fully into the room.  “Ani?”

“Mom!” Anakin nearly fell over himself in his haste to stand up and reach his mother.  They embraced before she even made it to the couches.  “I missed you so much…”

“Oh, Ani, I always knew you’d come back,” Shmi pulled away from her son, holding him at arm’s length.  He nearly dwarfed her, and she must have noticed because the first thing she said was, “You’ve grown so big!”  She moved her hands to cup his cheeks.  “And you’re so _handsome_!”

Anakin made a pained noise and Obi-Wan covered his mouth with his sleeve, lest Anakin turn to look at him and find amusement somewhere on his face.

“Owen and I will go start, supper.  I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on,” Cliegg said, standing across from Obi-Wan.

Shmi smiled gratefully at him and Anakin said, “Mom, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my Jedi Master.”

If Obi-Wan didn’t know better, he would have said he heard pride in Anakin’s tone.  Of course Anakin wouldn’t hesitate to show respect for his master in front of his _mother_ , but Froce forbid he ever show it to Obi-Wan directly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.” Obi-Wan said, standing and shaking Shmi’s hand as she moved toward him, one arm still wrapped around her son.

“And you,” Shmi said.  She held onto Obi-Wan’s hand like it was some sacred treasure before letting go.  “Qui-Gon spoke of you several times.  How is he?  He must be busy.  It’s a shame he could not come with you.”

“Mom…” Anakin said and focused his line of sight on some distant point next to him.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you,” Obi-Wan said. “But my master Qui-Gon was killed not long after we left Tatooine.  I became Anakin’s master in his place.”

Shmi’s expression softened immeasurably and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he’d seen such kindness or open emotion in a person’s eyes before.  “Oh dear… I’m so sorry.  It must have been very hard for you to lose him, I’m sure you were terribly close.”

“It… was.  Thank you.” Obi-Wan said, attempting to quiet his emotions, which he may or may not have been successfully doing given the strange look he was currently receiving from Anakin.  Qui-Gon’s death was never a subject he enjoyed speaking about or dwelling on.

“At the very least,” Shmi said, “I’m so very happy to see you,” she looked pointedly at Obi-Wan, “ _both_ of you.  You will be staying for supper, won’t you?”

“I’m afraid-,”

“Of _course_!” Anakin cut him off and Obi-Wan caught his forehead between his thumb and forefinger with a sigh.

“Anakin, would you mind speaking with me in private for a moment?” Obi-wan said.

After a brief exchange of eye contact with his mother wherein Anakin seemed to be begging her to save him from whatever horrible lecture he was sure Obi-Wan had planned (and Obi-Wan _did_ have a horrible lecture planned), Shmi waved him away and said, “Go on.  I’ll help Cliegg with supper.  We’ll call you when it’s ready.”  She smiled, kissed him on his cheek and left.

“Whatever you’re going to say, Master.  I already know I don’t want to hear it.”

A small smirk found its way onto Obi-Wan’s mouth.  “I’m sure you don’t, but I’m afraid you haven’t a choice in the matter, my young Padawan.”  He waved a finger for Anakin to follow him out of the underground homestead and with great, immeasurable resistance, Anakin did.

The air was cooling in the wake of Tatooine’s twin sunset, but the desert still smelled warm and carried a strong wind on its sandy dunes.  Obi-Wan turned to face Anakin who had crossed his arms and was staring at his master petulantly.  Perhaps if he were older, the expression might have been intimidating, but Anakin still held enough youth in his plump cheeks for the look to be childish, at best.

“I _will_ free the rest of the slaves, Master.  My mother may be safe, but my friends are still suffering, along with hundreds of other innocent people on this dung heap of a planet.  This is what Jedi are supposed to do.  It’s our _responsibility_.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and remained silent for a moment.  Convincing Anakin of anything through rational logic took a great deal of effort and key wordplay.  “I understand that you want to free your friends, Anakin, and you are right.  It is a Jedi’s responsibility to uphold peace, and peace never involves the slavery of innocents.  _However_ , what you fail to understand is that to free the slaves now would mean war with the Hutts.  That is a war you cannot win on your own, not even with me.  Hundreds of slaves would _die_ in the process of your attempt at freeing them, and in the end, you would fail.”

“You don’t know that.” Anakin scowled.

“You’re right, I don’t.  Perhaps you would succeed and free all of your friends, every slave on Tatooine.  But the odds are not in your favor right now, Anakin.  You’d be gambling with people’s lives, people who you care about.  I know that is not something you want to do.  Once you have completed your training, when a galactic _war_ is no longer looming on the horizon, _then_ perhaps, you might be successful in freeing your friends.  But you must have patience.  You must trust that when the time is right, an opportunity will present itself.”

Anakin continued to stare at some point just past Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Are you listening to me, Anakin?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m trying to help you, not hinder you.”

“I know, Master.”

“You must trust me.”

“I _do_ , Master.”

“What _are_ you looking at?” Obi-Wan spun around and came face to face with a distant mountain of billowing sand, tearing across the open desert and heading directly for them.

“Storm’s coming,” Anakin said.  “Guess we’ll have to stay the night.”

Obi-Wan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a slim smirk spreading across Anakin’s face.  “Yes, you sound absolutely devastated.”  With one last look at the storm, Obi-Wan groaned in disgust and turned back towards the homestead.  “I do hate this blasted planet.”

Anakin smiled at him, one of his softer smiles, usually the one reserved for after he’d finally come to his senses about some fool idea he had and was trying to regain Obi-Wan’s favor.  Begrudgingly, Obi-Wan admitted that it typically worked.  “At least we can agree on that, Master.”


End file.
